Buying Day by Gemma Hawk
I remember my “buying day” as we called it, quite clearly.
“Buying day” is something that all we owls in the pet shop talked about. Being bought was a great honor and every day in the summer at least two owls were bought. I really can’t say why most Hogwarts students need an owl. We’re great companions, of course, and we are useful, seeing as we bring the mail. We’re much better than any cat, rat or toad. But why must so many Hogwarts students have a pet at all?
It was most bothersome to be inspected by the children. They would raise their small, scrawny faces up to our cages and peek in, staring at us.
Who were they to judge whether or not we were worth buying? They were choosing their first owl, for goodness sake. I always thought that we should choose them. A wand, for example, chooses its owner. How is it that a piece of wood may choose its owner, but a living creature may not?
But as I was saying, I remember my “buying day” oh, so clearly.
I was getting rather tired of all those childish faces that all we animals perked up tremendously when someone so far from childish it was almost unbelievable, stepped into the dark old store.
First off, he must have been at least fifty, perhaps even sixty. He was clearly an adult, obvious by the wrinkles on his face, the muscles he possessed, the maturity of his features, and the large brown beard that was working its way down his chest.
Second, the man was gigantic. I don’t mean that he was fat or tall; I simply mean that he was ten times the size of a normal human man, both in length and width. He was accompanied by a boy about eleven years old, who was all over the place, examining everything. I soon lost sight of him.
I was intrigued by the man. My cage mate (a rather dull brown owl who talked too much) was quite interested as well. He clung to the top of the cage before jumping down and turning to me.
“Who do you think he is?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer he went on. “I think he’s some kind of giant. But what would a giant be doing here? I thought that they were all dead.” Before I can even open my mouth to show off a bit of my superior knowledge about giants, he was off again. “Perhaps he’s not a giant. Maybe he’s a troll. Trolls aren’t as big as giants, are they? But trolls are stupid, am I right? Oh, I know! He’s a half troll and half giant. That’s it! Or maybe…”
I wasn’t listening anymore at this point. I was far too busy staring at the abnormally large man. He was approaching the counter now and I was really quite interested in what was going on. But my cage mate was being most irritating and was still jabbering into my ear, limiting my hearing range quite a bit.
“Would you shut up?” I asked politely and my cage mate obeyed. “It seems as though he’s asking about something at the counter,” I muttered to myself and pressed my beak through the bars of my cage.
“….I’m lookin’ fer an owl,” I heard the man say in his gruff voice.
“Did you hear that?” my cage mate cried, jumping up and down, giving me a headache. “He’s looking for an owl. Maybe he’ll buy one of us!”
“Maybe,” I said skeptically. I had been in that pet shop for half a year at that point, and I was beginning to doubt that anyone would want to buy me. I still don’t understand how so many months could pass without my being bought. I was- and am- a very fine owl. I have a snowy white color with beautiful outstanding eyes, if I dare say so myself. My mother always told me that I was her finest youngling.
“Don’t you hope so?” asked my cage mate, who was now making quite a spectacle of himself, jumping up and down and flapping his wings to see if the man (who was quite easy to keep track of because of his size) was heading towards our cage.
“I would wish you’d stop hopping all over the place like that,” I said grumpily, ruffling my feathers for effect.
“Sorry, mate,” he said, patting my wing.
I closed my eyes briefly, reminding myself that this annoying little feather ball was my friend. The best one I had, actually, at the time.
The boy had joined the large man, and they were both speaking with the man behind the counter. The man behind the counter had no name to us. We all knew him as the kindly old man behind the counter who would give us far too much to eat, and allow us to roam free once a week, as long as we returned.
The man behind the counter pointed at various cages of owls around the shop, the large man nodding in understanding every once in a while.
And the greatest moment of my life (up till that date, that is) happened. The boy pointed right at me, saying something to the man behind the counter. It was as though my blood froze to ice, my heart leaped and time stopped for a few moments. The only thoughts running through my head were- I might be bought, I might bought, I might be bought. It was breath taking.
“I think he pointed at you!” my cage mate exclaimed.
“Oh, my,” I murmured, for lack of anything better to say.
“This is so exciting!” my cage mate cried, giving me a quick hug.
The man behind the counter came out and led the large man and the boy over to our cage. “This one, sir?” he asked, gesturing towards me.
The boy appraised me with large green eyes. “Yes, definitely!” he said
It sounded as though he really wanted me. Not just wanted a pretty owl, but a companion.
The man behind the counter (who wasn’t behind the counter at that moment, by the way) held up a smaller cage and opened our cage.
My cage mate winked at me and whispered, “Good luck.” I could only nod in agreement. I had never been speechless before, but you must excuse my past self at that moment, I was undergoing the greatest change of my life.
The man took me out with his fragile old and frail hands, and put me in the smaller cage and closed it securely.
“That’ll be twenty gallons, sir.”
The large man dug around in his pockets (which were the size of a whole cage!) and came out again with the appropriate amount. The other man accepted it and returned to his traditional spot behind the counter.
I took one last look around the pet shop that I had come to know so well as my home. I had lived here for half of my life. I tried to remember every detail, to post the picture of the shop into my mind. I thought that I would have a perfectly clear image, but now all I have is a dusty mental photograph of a past home.
The boy left the pet shop with the cage under his arm, every once in a while glancing down at me, smiling at me.
That was when I knew that this was going to be just perfect.
A/N: Please review!